


Wet Work

by akamww3



Series: Encounters [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brief Swearing by Mycroft and Molly, F/M, Mollcroft, Oral Sex, Post-TAB (but no spoilers), Pre-Relationship, Sex (Mature/Explicit?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:10:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamww3/pseuds/akamww3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been ages since a brewing situation called for Mycroft Holmes to do wet work - not since those long ago days when having an aptitude for legwork had been crucial to prove oneself worthy of a position with the nation’s security service.  But sometimes taking on a bit of wet work was still the most optimal course of action for the situation at hand - depending, of course, on how one defines the term …</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Work

**Author's Note:**

> _Mycroft and Molly are taking advantage of a free afternoon for him, so the sex is ramped up while the angst is basically non-existent. But don’t worry … we haven’t seen the last of the angst, even though they do settle one question about their “relationship.”_
> 
>   
>  [WaitingForTheThaw](http://waitingforthethaw.tumblr.com/)

Molly Hooper was enjoying a lazy Sunday morning, huddled under a cuddly throw on the sofa, her cat sprawled over her feet, while watching the end of one of her guilty pleasures, _“Sleepless in Seattle.”_ Or re-watching … for the tenth time, at the very least. She jumped at the sound of her text alert and shifted to retrieve the mobile from where it had slipped underneath her.

_\- Good morning. Any plans for today?_

_\- Just hanging out at the flat. Morning!_

_\- Can be available tonight._

_\- Any time’s fine. :)_

~~~~~

At half past eleven that morning, Mycroft Holmes came out of his office, carrying his umbrella and briefcase, and stopped by his PA’s desk. He waited for Anthea to shut down her computer, don her outerwear and grab her handbag and mobile, then held the door for her to precede him into the corridor. As they walked across the front lobby, Mycroft thanked her for a good morning’s work and inclined his head at the officers covering the security checkpoint. When they stepped out of the building and into the sub-freezing cold, Anthea was delighted to see the bright sunshine and gave her boss a big smile, which he returned with a brief one before they parted ways.

Mycroft allowed himself a deep sigh once he’d settled in the back of his car. After three long days and nights of attempting to chase down an apparent phantom, he was looking forward to getting home and enjoying some downtime that would, at some point, include a well-deserved whisky by the fire in his study and several hours immersed in a favorite selection from his library. He leaned his head against the back of the seat, closed his eyes and released another long breath. After several minutes of considering his plans for the afternoon and early evening before he’d need to leave for Molly’s that night, Mycroft suddenly sat forward and met his driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Turn around,” he said.

“Where we are going, sir?”

“Miss Hooper’s.”

~~~~~

By the time Mycroft’s driver left him at Molly’s, it was almost noon. He gave his customary taps on her door, but then let himself in with his key, calling Molly’s name as he hung the umbrella on a hook and began removing his outer garments. There was no reply, but he heard a couple of bumps from somewhere in the flat.

Mycroft draped his scarf over his coat and lowered his eyes to the cat who’d suddenly appeared around the corner. After an unresolved staring contest, Mycroft hitched his trouser legs up and lowered himself into a crouch. “Toby, isn’t it?” The cat’s hackles relaxed but he came no closer. “It’s probably best that we learn to get along if we’re going to be seeing each other on a regular basis.” When Toby ventured closer, Mycroft reached out a hand and gave him a scratch behind the ear. The cat promptly moved in for more, but after a quick scratch under his chin, Mycroft rose to his feet. “No need to get too chummy,” he said, then grimaced at the realization that he was talking to a cat, and promptly continued without thinking, “Where’s your mistress?” He tilted his head when he heard another distant bump, followed by the sound of the shower. _Ah._

He stepped into the sitting room and glanced around. Evidence of Molly’s morning activities was abundant … open DVD covers on the sofa, newspaper dropped untidily beside it … half-filled mug of tea. She’d left a wok on the worktop and what looked like preparations for a stir fry on the cutting board … red and yellow peppers, a red chili, pack of Thai noodles, a lime, sesame seeds … and fresh chicken strips and runner beans in the refrigerator. It certainly wouldn’t offer the type of gustatory pleasure they’d get from what he’d been going to order in for their lunch, but it would do.

Mycroft quietly entered the bedroom, arched a brow at Toby and quickly closed the door before the cat could slip past him, then tossed his jacket over a chair and toed off his shoes. He placed his pocket watch, chain and cufflinks on the bedside table, then quickly removed the rest of his clothes and arranged them over the chair … making a mental note to get Molly a proper valet stand. He crossed to the bathroom door and quietly opened it, then took an abrupt step back when Molly screamed. “It’s all right, Molly,” he said loudly.

_“MYCROFT!”_ She jerked the shower curtain aside, frowning quite ferociously. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing sneaking in here?”

Mycroft’s brows lowered and a deep crease appeared between them. “I sent you a text that I was on the way.”

“I didn’t see it,” she huffed, staring at him from above where the edge of the curtain was still bunched in her fists. After several tense moments, she ran her eyes over him, then she slowly smiled as her fingers relaxed. “Are you going to join me?”

“That was my plan,” he said, arching a brow as he reached for the shower curtain. Molly moved back and he stepped over the tub’s rim and into the stream of warm water. His wet hands slipped around her back and hips and he pulled her into a hard embrace, his lips firm and demanding on hers. Molly accepted his demand and returned it in equal measure, gripping his shoulders and pressing her breasts tightly to his chest, then sliding her arms around his neck as far as she could reach on her tiptoes. Molly moaned a protest when he pulled back to take a breath. He raised a hand to smooth some wet strands of hair off her face, then claimed her lips again, delving deep, as he wrapped her more closely in his arms. Molly finally pulled back, panting as she met his eyes, her hands shifting to clasp the sides of his waist, then she lowered her eyes, watching the rivulets of water chase themselves down his chest. She kissed his sternum, thrilled at the heavy throb of his heart under her lips, then dragged her mouth to his left nipple, licking it before closing her lips around the hardened nub.

Molly gasped and her head fell back when Mycroft slid his hands lower and squeezed her bottom, pulling her more tightly against him. His mouth dropped onto hers again and their tongues danced against each other, rubbing and circling, then finally thrusting deep. Without breaking the kiss, Molly shifted enough to slide her hand between them, rubbed a circle on his stomach, then moved lower to run her fingers teasingly over his cock before making a fist around it. She ran her hand up and down his length as they continued to kiss until Mycroft caught her wrist and gently tugged her away. “Not yet,” he said, letting go of her hand so he could cup the back of her head and pull her into another kiss. Another minute of that and she moaned, twisting her head away to catch her breath, then lurching forward again, kissing his throat as her hands slid along his ribs and around to clutch him to her. When his chin nudged her forehead, she let her head fall back and they kissed again, seemingly as hungry for it as they’d been for the first.

Mycroft finally straightened, meeting her eyes as his chest rose and fell with his deep breaths, and Molly felt her knees wobble. “Mycroft …,” she breathed – nothing more, just his name, but the heat simmering in his gaze flamed brighter just before he took a firm hold of her shoulders and turned her around, then pulled her flush against him, her back to his chest, his hands flattened on her midriff. Molly turned her head to look up at him questioningly, and his eyes held hers as one hand slid up to cup her breast and the other slid down, over her belly, then between her thighs. Molly flushed, feeling the warmth spread from her middle and up her chest and throat until her cheeks felt like they were burning. She closed her eyes on a low moan when he gently pinched her sensitive flesh between two fingers and caressed her with a scissoring motion. Her knees buckled and he quickly lowered his other hand from her breast to her stomach to hold her more firmly against him. “All right?” he asked after a moment. When Molly nodded, Mycroft wrapped both arms around her middle and turned them around by rocking side to side until Molly was in the stream of water. She spluttered and quickly turned her head when the spray ricocheted and hit her in the face, and Mycroft laughed under his breath as he raised a hand to adjust the showerhead. “Sorry,” he said, cocking his head to kiss her forehead. “I forget how short you are.” He suppressed another laugh when she scowled at that. “And how abnormally tall I am,” he added, deadpan.

“Better,” she said, then gasped when he made another adjustment that increased the strength of the spray.

He let go of the showerhead and carded his fingers through Molly’s hair, tilting her face to the side. “Trust me,” he said, giving her a kiss before pressing her cheek against his chest. He slid his hand down her throat and upper chest before cupping her breast, then shifted backwards while watching the stream of water.

_“Oooooh,”_ Molly moaned just as Mycroft paused, and he smiled to himself. He lowered his hand to her midriff and slowly turned them to the right, then swayed back to the left, and Molly’s _“ooooh”_ became more guttural as the water played over her nipples. Mycroft gave Molly a moment to get used to the feeling, then slid a hand over her stomach. “Can you prop your foot on the rim?” Molly shivered at the question murmured by her ear, but shifted her weight onto her right leg and pressed her back harder against him before lifting her left foot to the tub’s edge. She groaned as his fingers curved between her legs, again rubbing and gently pinching her flesh between his fingers. Mycroft used his other hand to cup the underside of her left breast and rubbed her nipple with his thumb, and the contrast between that and the water hitting it when his thumb moved aside made gooseflesh rise across her chest. Molly arched against Mycroft’s chest and the muscles in her legs trembled when his fingers gently worked their way between her slick folds. Her breathing got heavier when he crooked two fingers and slid them into her, thrusting gently until her breath caught on a shuddering sob. _“Oh god …”_ He stiffened his fingers and pressed more deeply, rubbing more firmly against her, and continued until she cried out – and he had to catch her against him when her foot slid off the tub’s edge and her knees gave way.

Mycroft shifted Molly’s weight until he could let go for long enough to turn off the tap, then pushed the shower curtain aside and picked her up before carefully stepping over the rim and onto the mat. He glanced around the bathroom, then moved to the vanity and carefully sat Molly on its edge while reaching for a large towel. He wrapped the towel around her and drew the edges tightly together under her chin, holding it until her hands replaced his, then reached for a second towel. He lifted her hair and slipped the towel under and around it, then squeezed the towel between his hands from her nape to the ends, blotting the excess water.

Molly had been watching him while trying to catch her breath and now tilted her head back to stare at his face accusingly. The corners of his lips turned up in a tentative smile, and she shook her head. “What have you done to me, Mycroft Holmes.”

“It wasn’t good?”

She huffed, which sounded more like a wheeze since she hadn’t quite got her breath back. “It was bloody _brilliant,_ as you damned well know,” she said, then ran her eyes down his body as he reached for another towel. “But what about you?”

His brows lifted in surprise as he rubbed the towel over his chest. “There’s no deadline today. I’m not planning to leave anytime soon.”

Molly hoped she’d hidden the thrill that raced through her. “That’s good,” she said lightly, watching as he bent to dry his legs. “You can help me make lunch.”

“That wasn’t my first priority,” he said drily as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

Molly’s eyes lowered to where his towel was tented. “Obviously,” she said, pulling the towel off her head before she slid off the vanity. She turned to the mirror and worked her fingers through her hair, removing the worst of the tangles, and blotted the ends again with the towel. “Come on,” she said, tossing both of her towels over the shower rod, then headed for the bedroom.

Molly waited until Mycroft followed her, then flicked her hand at the side of the bed. “Sit,” she said, then raised her brows when he didn’t immediately comply. “Sit down, Mycroft … please.” He brushed past her and turned around before – “Wait a minute.” He straightened his knees again and Molly loosened his towel and tossed it on the floor. “Now sit,” she said, then sped up the process by putting a hand on his chest and pushing until he fell back on the mattress. He was in the process of sitting up when she clambered onto his lap and shoved him down again before straddling his waist. Before he could say anything, she curled over him, kissing the center of his chest and slowly kissing her way toward his neck. She took her time at the base of his throat, dipping her tongue into its hollow, then licking a stripe up the side of his neck. When she reached his ear, she gently bit his lobe, then deliberately whispered right into his ear canal, “It’s my turn” – which, as she expected, caused a quiver to run through him. She kissed a path along his jawline, then lightly bit his chin before lifting her head to look at him. Their eyes held for several moments, but when he lifted his hand to the back of Molly’s head, she shook it off. “No helping,” she said, “I’m in charge.” When he dropped his hand, she lowered her head and carefully fitted her mouth over his, aligning their lips just so, then cupped the sides of his head, slipping her fingers into his hair as she increased the pressure. She lifted a fraction and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips until he relaxed his jaw, then hollowed her cheeks and sucked his tongue into her mouth. As she played with his tongue, she slowly tightened her fingers until she was gently tugging on his hair, then released it and lightly scratched his scalp with her fingernails, before pulling away enough to meet his eyes. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” he said, breathing more quickly than usual.

Molly bent over him again, lightly sucking on his upper lip before doing the same to his lower one. She shifted down his body a bit and suppressed a smile when she felt the press of his cock against her bottom. She kissed her way down the other side of his throat, then continued down his chest to his nipples, which she took turns licking and lightly nibbling before pressing her hands against his chest and sitting up. She could feel the heavy throb of his heart under her palms and leaned back down to press a kiss right over where its beat was strongest. She then rose up on her knees and shifted lower down his body before reaching between her legs and wrapping her hand around him.

“Condom,” he said, pointing at the bedtable.

“Nope,” she said, sliding even further down his body, “we don’t need it.”

“Molly –” He broke off when she dropped her feet to the floor and propped her forearms on his thighs. “What are you –” He groaned and his hands automatically went to the back of her head when she licked a stripe up his cock before taking the tip between her lips. He lifted his head off the bed to look down at her and groaned again, from his gut, when she took more of him into her mouth, carefully massaging his frenulum with her tongue before running her tongue down the underside of the shaft. “Molly –”

Molly raised her head and gave him a stern look, while trying to ignore the fact that she was blushing. “Lie back, Mycroft, so I can concentrate.”

“But -”

“Do you want me to quit?”

_“Fuck,”_ he muttered at the thought of ceding so much control, then he gave in, dropping his hands from Molly’s head, and closing his eyes. He stiffened when she ran the flat of her tongue over his glans, then repeated it before taking him into her mouth again. His breathing quickened and deepened as she worked over him, wrapping her hand around the base and firmly pumping her fist in tandem with the bobbing of her head. He groaned loudly when he felt his testicles tighten and started to warn Molly, but just at that moment she returned her attentions to his frenulum, lightly teasing it with the tip of her tongue over and over in between sucking on his glans until he abruptly came with a muffled shout. Molly kept working on him until the last spasm shuddered through him, then released him from her mouth, while keeping her hand loosely wrapped around him as he softened in her grip.

Mycroft finally lifted his head to look at Molly when she didn’t say anything. She was still propped on her elbows, but now looking like that proverbial cat who’d been at the cream. He lifted onto his elbows and scooted back on the bed, dragging his legs out from under her until he could bend his knees without clocking her one on the chin. He stretched out then rolled over, grabbing one of the pillows and falling face down on it.

“Mycroft?”

“Oh go … brush your teeth or something,” he muttered against the pillow.

Molly climbed onto the bed and sat on her knees, staring at the back of his head. “What’s wrong? Surely that wasn’t …,” she hesitated, then continued, “the first time you’ve been given a blow job?”

“No,” he said with a snort, then turned his face on the pillow to look at her, “but you do it exceedingly well.”

_“Really?”_ Mycroft snorted again before turning his face away and wrapping both arms around the pillow. Molly slowly grinned as she looked at him, then ran her eyes down his naked body. She backed off the bed, then leaned over and gave him a sporty slap on his bum. “Thanks, Mycroft.” He muttered something into the pillow that she didn’t dare ask him to repeat.

Molly slipped on her dressing gown, still watching him, then smiled to herself before picking up his towel and returning to the bathroom. She straightened up, then left by the door to the hall and went to the kitchen. She filled the kettle and flipped the switch before going to the sitting room and tidying up there. After returning the last DVD to her bookshelf, she almost tripped over Toby on her way back to the kitchen. Toby was rubbing himself against one of her legs, then the other, until she finally bent to pick him up and gave him a cuddle. “What’s wrong, Tobes - are you jealous of the other man in my life?” She tickled him under the chin, then set him on the floor. _Would Mycroft object to that description?_

While she finished preparing the tea, Molly had time to think about what she’d done to Mycroft and suddenly found it almost impossible to believe she’d been so bold. She’d gone down on a man … _men_ … before, but – _oh god. Mycroft Holmes._ She drew a deep breath through her mouth and slowly released it through her nose, then went back to the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind her.

Mycroft didn’t seem to have moved, and Molly decided he was actually asleep. It was no surprise that he’d crashed after keeping to such an intense work schedule for several days, then having a sudden release of tension, and finding himself on a comfortable bed. She flushed as she lifted the edge of the duvet from her side of the bed, carefully folded it toward the center, then walked around to lift it over him oh-so-slowly. She held her breath, waiting for him to move, then tiptoed out of the room.

Molly sat at the table sipping her tea, ate two Jammie Dodgers, and wondered what to do about lunch. She eyed the peppers and other things left on the cutting board and realized she’d lost most of her enthusiasm for a stir fry. She didn’t have much fresh food in the flat but could make a full English breakfast … other than the mushrooms. Maybe they could order in, though she couldn’t imagine Mycroft normally frequented his local Chinese takeaway or the like. When she finished her tea, she put all the lunch preparations away, then leaned against the worktop, considering their takeaway options. She’d just have to wait for Mycroft to wake up, she decided.

Molly fed Toby, adding a couple of fresh chicken strips as a treat, then went to the bathroom to work on her hair. What few tangles there were had set in when her hair dried so very careful combing was required. Once done, she pulled her hair back and braided it, then washed her face and applied moisturizer.

Back in the kitchen, she poured out the rest of the tea and started a fresh pot. By the time it was ready and she’d prepared her heaviest tea tray, an hour had passed since she checked on Mycroft. She didn’t mind him sleeping longer, but figured he’d be waking soon from hunger if nothing else. She carefully maneuvered through the door to keep Toby out, then set the tray on the end of the bed, making sure it was level. Mycroft still hadn’t moved, but he turned his head when she whispered his name. “Do you want some tea?” she asked her normal tone.

“Mmm, yes, thank you,” he said, then rolled over to sit on the side of the bed. He stretched his arms overhead and rolled his shoulders, then got up and went to the bathroom. Molly placed their pillows against the headboard and carefully crawled onto the bed, folded her legs in front of her, and pulled the tray closer. “Just a little milk, right?” she asked when the bathroom door opened. She kept her eyes on what her hands were doing until he’d settled on the bed beside her, but saw his bare legs out of the corner of her eye before he got under the duvet and leaned against the headboard. She breathed silently through her nose, then turned to him as she offered the cup and saucer. She couldn’t stop the blush that she felt warming her cheeks and moving down her throat, but tried to ignore it as she met his eyes and watched as he took his first sip. “All right?”

“Just right,” he said, giving the cup his undivided attention.

Molly poured her own cup, then sat sipping it, wondering which one of them was more ill-at-ease. She was quite frankly surprised that Mycroft seemed uncomfortable, but they’d crossed some sort of line, she thought. She really hadn’t considered that he’d pretty much stayed in charge during their previous encounters and his allowing her to take control may have required some sort of … _rewiring_ in his brain, which she was sure was even more impossibly complex than the average human brain. Molly cleared her throat, then turned her head toward him. “Are you ready for lunch?”

Mycroft met her eyes, then the corners of his lips turned up. _Progress,_ she thought. “Aren’t the biscuits our lunch?”

Molly rolled her eyes, then sighed. “I’ve gone off the stir fry. Would you be all right with a takeaway?”

Mycroft eyed the Jammie Dodger curiously before eating half of it in one bite. He finally replied after he’d taken a sip of tea. “Would you allow me to take care of our meal?”

“All right,” Molly said, “but what do you have in mind?”

“Would a steak suit you? Jacket potato? Fresh vegetables?”

Molly scoffed. “And where are you going to get that ordered in on a Sunday afternoon -”

“Let me worry about it. Would that menu suit you? Would you like something else?”

“No, a steak would be great,” she said, not doubting he’d get it done but wondering who he’d be calling … and how much it was going to cost him. She bent forward to put her empty cup on the tray, then sat back, not sure what to do with her hands. And aware – highly aware – that Mycroft was still naked and she all but.

The silence that had briefly been companionable became less so. Molly jumped when Mycroft leaned toward her to reach the tray, then watched him set his cup and saucer on it and bend over to place the tray on the floor. She kept her eyes on his hands until he flattened them on the covers over his thighs, then slowly ran her gaze up his chest until her eyes met his. “So when are you going to place our order?”

Mycroft held her gaze while pushing the duvet aside, then reached for her right hand, which she realized had been plucking at the sheet. “Later,” he said, tugging steadily on her hand. Molly resisted for a few moments, then allowed him to pull her toward him. When she was on her knees facing him, he tugged her closer until she fell against his chest, then he tilted her chin up and kissed her. Molly lifted her free hand to his shoulder then slid it around his neck. When the kiss deepened and he brought both arms around her back, Molly lifted her knee and shifted to straddle his lap. She quickly undid the knot on her dressing gown and shrugged it off her shoulders, and Mycroft pulled it the rest of the way down her arms and tossed it over the side of the bed. She slid her arms over his shoulders and braced herself against the headboard while shifting her weight from one side to the other as she unfolded her legs and tucked her feet under his pillow. He then raised his knees behind her so they were wrapped as closely together as possible while sitting upright. One kiss led to another, lips separating to breathe, then pressing together again – not particularly deeply or passionately, but simply enjoying the feeling of kissing. Mycroft sucked Molly’s bottom lip between his lips and ran his tongue over it before letting it go, and Molly copied him, rather dazedly. She’d never experienced such a snogging session. He hadn’t been pressuring her for anything more … yet, but she’d felt his body start to stir underneath her and before long they pulled away enough for him to help her lift up and slowly sink down on him. They went back to kissing and Molly felt overwhelmed by him, surrounded by him, her senses filled with him … and at the back of her mind, a warning light started flashing. It’s just sex, it’s _just_ sex _, it’s just sex …_

Molly pulled back with a gasp and stared at Mycroft for several moments before surging forward again and tightening her arms around his neck as she pushed against his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth and she instigated a duel, thrusting slowly until he took her up on it and they began to thrust and parry, circling and sucking, as their breathing quickened and the temperature in the room seemed to rise. Molly arched backwards and pulled Mycroft with her, and the next thing she knew, he’d lifted her against him and raised onto his knees to move them farther down the bed. Once they were away from the headboard, he stretched out over her and Molly wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him, and they stayed pressed together like that until Mycroft reached up to loosen her hold on his neck. He pushed up on his arms, then flexed his hips and Molly gasped. From then on, it was _sex,_ and Molly was relieved to answer his thrusts and encourage him to move faster and thrust harder and eventually they rushed headlong to a climax that left them both wrung out and clinging to each other for long breathless moments before they separated and collapsed on their own sides of the bed.

It was _sex_ … nothing more than a mutually agreeable romp between the sheets. Or on top of them.

And that’s just the way Molly wanted it.

~~~~~

It was nearing five o’clock before they both were in the kitchen. Molly had quickly pulled on a T-shirt and pair of pajama bottoms before leaving the bedroom to Mycroft. She was preparing another pot of tea when he walked in, fully dressed other than his jacket, which he draped around the back of a chair. “I didn’t know if we’d want tea or not so …,” she shrugged. “Would you like some wine? There are several bottles in the pantry and refrigerator.”

Mycroft wasn’t shy about showing his lack of appreciation for most of it, but finally set a Sancerre sauvignon blanc on the table. “That one’s somewhat better than the typical plonk,” he said, then snorted. “We need to work on your palate.”

“No one else has complained,” she said, pulling out a chair at the table and dropping onto it. Mycroft didn’t deem that worthy of a response. “Did you order the food?”

“It’s on the way.”

The steaks were filet mignon, the jacket potatoes were perfectly baked with crispy brown skins, the vegetables were fresh asparagus and runner beans. Mycroft had ordered a cheesecake with strawberries and a strawberry glaze for afters. And two – _two_ – bottles of wine … since _obviously_ they needed a different one with the pudding. Molly figured the meal had cost him at least a week’s salary for her.

It was half past six by the time they finished eating. Molly followed Mycroft to the door, watching as he shrugged into his overcoat, and then handed him his scarf. “Mycroft …”

_“Hmm?”_ He glanced at her, then put his briefcase back down at her expression. “What is it?”

“Is it all right if I _like_ you?”

“I should hope you like me,” he said with a light jerk of his head toward the back of the flat, “all things considered.”

“I didn’t really, the first time,” she said, biting her lip as the color rose in her face.

“Nor I you, but I didn’t know you.”

“You _still_ don’t know me,” she protested.

“I _see_ you now though, Molly Hooper,” he said, “and I know you better.”

“Are we, um, _friends_ then?”

His brows lifted. “I think so … friends of sorts, surely. Don’t you?”

Molly lifted her hands to straighten his scarf, then patted his chest. “Good. I feel better when I can label things.”

“And ours would be?”

“Friends with benefits,” she said, smiling slowly. “If that doesn’t ring a bell, try googling it.”

Mycroft’s eyes met hers for several moments, then his lips quirked. “I enjoyed our benefits today, Molly Hooper.”

“As did I, Mycroft Holmes.” She tilted her chin in invitation and he gave her a quick kiss, then reached for his umbrella with one hand and picked up his briefcase with the other. She watched until he reached the stairs, then shut the door and smiled to herself before picking up Toby and settling on the sofa. She looked through the DVDs she’d pulled earlier, chose one, then finally checked her phone while the opening credits started.

~~~~~

Mycroft’s thoughts were interrupted when his mobile vibrated ten minutes later. He glanced toward his driver as he slipped the phone out of his pocket, then suppressed a snort at Molly’s very late response to his text that she’d missed earlier.

_\- Coming now._ [11:42 am]

_\- You certainly did, Mr. Holmes._ [6:47 pm]

~~~~~

As he made the turn onto Marylebone Road, Mycroft’s driver glanced in the rearview mirror, then did a classic double-take, hesitating a moment before returning his attention to the early-evening traffic. _Must have been a trick of light,_ he thought. There was no way his stony-faced boss had been grinning to himself.

____________________________________

 

ADDITIONAL NOTE: A small part of what inspired me to write “An Unexpected Refuge” (the start of my Encounters series) was - surprisingly enough! - hearing One Direction’s “Perfect” soon after watching TAB. This particular section of the lyrics is what really “spoke” to me when applied to this version of Mycroft and Molly:

_“I might never be the hands you put your heart in_

_or the arms that hold you any time you want them,_

_But that don't mean that we can't live here in the moment_

_'cause I can be the one you love from time to time.”_

**Author's Note:**

>  _Edited 7 April 2016 to add:_ It's come to my attention that the "structure" of this series could be confusing. If I'd known Mycroft's and Molly's initial encounter was eventually going to develop into a relationship, I would have started this as a multi-chaptered story instead of a series. Please note that the storyline of this Encounters series is chronological, so reading earlier parts will show how they got to where they are now. :)


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